by Dannika Dark
I folded my arms. “In case I decide to get greedy and run with the money? I really wish I could understand why you think I’m that low of a Shifter.”
Austin stepped forward and softened his voice. “I don’t know you. All I know is that Jericho was doing just fine until you showed up. Now we’re hiding bodies and cleaning up our tracks. This isn’t just about you. The Council has the authority to dismantle my pack if they don’t think I have it under—”
“Ho-ly shit,” Denver exclaimed. “Check out Jericho.”
We all looked toward the high grass on the right, and Jericho’s wolf emerged. He was a magnificent shade of brown and powerful in size. Between his fierce jaws was a dead rabbit, and he walked aggressively toward us, making the other men tense.
Jericho’s wolf dropped the rabbit at my feet as an offering. It was a gesture of loyalty and love. If I had been in wolf form, we would have shared the bounty together. It’s something I’d heard of mated couples doing but had never seen. Problem being, I wasn’t his mate, so the dead rabbit made all the men look between one another. What’s more, a Shifter only did this when his mate was in wolf form. Here I was, in human form, and Jericho’s wolf had hunted for me.
“He must be confused,” Austin said quietly.
The wolf sat on his haunches, impervious to the men’s reactions. He smacked his tongue around his mouth and looked up at me expectantly. I brushed my hand over his soft ear, my heart thumping wildly.
“You shouldn’t confuse a wolf like that,” Reno said quietly, staring down at Jericho.
“I didn’t.”
“Then why the hell is a dead rabbit lying at your feet?”
Denver snorted. “Maybe he thinks she needs the foot for her keychain.”
Chapter 21
“Izzy! I need you to cover my tables.”
I glanced over my shoulder across the bar. “What’s wrong, Rosie?” She held up her left hand, and I stared blank-faced at a broken nail. “Really?”
Rosie smiled guiltily. “How am I supposed to give a good impression looking like a hobo who clawed her way to work? I’ll be right back, honey.”
I reached in my pocket for a black band. Instead of a full ponytail, I took the hair from both sides of my head and tied them back.
A familiar face strolled into the bar. The customers tapped their feet to a folksy song playing on the jukebox, not taking notice of the alpha. Lorenzo’s black hair fell over his brown shoulders, just as smooth and straight as could be. He looked like the angel of death—dark hair and eyes, dark tank top and pants, and a look of menace. My eyes skated to the skull-and-crossbones tattoo on his left arm. Leather bracelets with tassels adorned his wrists, and a rope necklace looped around his neck.
Lorenzo caught sight of me at the bar and strolled up, easing into the seat to my left. Denver had taken the night off to go to the concert, so Frank was filling in. He handed Lorenzo a drink without asking for his order. “Here you are, Church.”
Lorenzo’s eyes flicked down to the ligature marks on my wrist, and he unexpectedly snatched my arm, holding it up for a better look.
“Did the Weston pack do this?”
I pulled back. “No.”
His steely eyes narrowed. “If you lie to me, I’ll find out. If I discover they aren’t treating their women right, there’ll be trouble.”
“They treat their women like gold. We should all be so lucky to be in a pack like theirs.”
He shifted in his seat and gave me a critical stare. “Then why aren’t you with them? Word is you’re a wolf. A good bitch shouldn’t be alone without a strong pack to look out for her.”
Lorenzo took a short sip of his drink and waited for an answer.
“Maybe some of you guys who live in a pack aren’t so nice to your unmated girls,” I implied, careful not to insult an alpha. “There’s a difference between a sense of belonging and belonging to someone. I have a great job and—”
“Ligature marks on your wrist.”
“That was an ex.”
“Did Cole take care of that ex?”
I grabbed the tray of drinks Frank handed me. “Don’t worry about the Cole brothers; they take care of things just fine. Let me know if you want something off the menu and I’ll put a rush on it,” I said in a friendly voice. Nosy or not, Lorenzo undoubtedly had tip money in his pocket waiting for a lucky girl, and I had no idea who his regular was.
After delivering drinks to my customers, I dipped down and lifted a black wallet off the floor. “Did you drop this?” I asked the dark man with the friendly smile.
“It’s not often you find an honest person,” he said in a baritone voice, taking the wallet from my hand.
“Well that was an experience,” a brunette said, flouncing by and collapsing in the seat beside him. After kissing his cheek, she wrinkled her nose. “The bathrooms are nasty. Can we go somewhere else?”
He tucked the wallet in his back pocket and lifted his eyes to mine. “I think we’ll stay a while and order something off the menu.”
“The avocado burgers are amazing,” I suggested. “I know the cook on this shift, and he’s a genius.”
“Bring one for each of us. Fries?”
“Coming up.”
“Uh, I want a salad,” the woman complained as she tried to cross her thick legs.
I lifted the tray. “I’ll have them put the light salad dressing on the side. Would you like lemon-water?”
She smiled appreciatively. That was one thing I loved about my job: turning people’s moods around. “Yes, please. Thank you. Oh, and got any pickles?”
“You bet. I’ll have your order out as soon as possible. Be right back with your water, miss, and if you gentlemen need another round, just holler.”
I subtly turned, not wanting to offend the woman with any ass-shaking, and went to retrieve her water.
After a few tables cleared and my avocado-burger table left me a hefty tip, I slid into a booth in the back and officially went off the clock.
“Honey, what’s going on?” Rosie asked. “You seem like such a sweet girl, and I don’t like the look in your eyes.”
“What look?” I nibbled on a wedge of pickle and sipped root beer from a short glass.
“Every time someone comes flying through the front door, you freeze up and clutch your heart. I saw you drop a tray an hour ago when a couple of rowdy men slammed their fists on the table while playing cards.”
I grimaced and hoped none of the patrons had caught me doing that.
“Sorry, Rosie. My ex has made my life a living hell, and I’m just trying to move on.”
She laughed melodically and leaned back, the turquoise earrings swinging from her ears. “Oh, I know all about that. My first boyfriend came along when I was about twenty.” Rosie shook with silent laughter and waved her hand. “I was a late bloomer. His name was George, and I thought he was the one and only. He was a handsome young man with curly hair and a sweet mouth who kissed me every chance he could.”
My brows drew together. “What was wrong with him?”
“He was like Jekyll and Hyde. Just the sweetest boy, but behind closed doors…” Rosie shook her head. “An animal. Lucky for me, I have big knuckles,” she said, making a fist.
I finished my pickle and licked the juice off my thumb. “I don’t like fighting; maybe that’s why I bailed all those years ago from my home life. Yours is the kind of story that scares me because… it happened to me. I feel so stupid, like I should have seen who he was.”
Rosie leaned forward and patted my hand. “Honey, the devil paints the prettiest masks. Some of us learn that the hard way, but don’t blame yourself. I did that for years, and no good ever comes of it. Someday you’ll meet a man and you’ll be awful to him. You’ll say mean things and push him away, but he’ll keep pulling because he’ll see beyond your pain. Just don’t keep pushing. At some point, you have to let him in or you’ll lose him for good. Don’t look at every mark on a man as a reason to leave him—we’re a
ll marked. Maybe it’s the ones who seem too perfect that are anything but,” she said contemplatively, tapping her chin. “The one thing I remember is how perfect George appeared. Everyone just loved him and said I was a lucky girl. I felt undeserving of that kind of man. Only later did he show his true colors, but maybe a man who hides his flaws is hiding something more wicked.”
“So you’re saying I need to find a flawed man with issues?” I sat back in my chair and thought about Jericho. With him, I knew all his imperfections, so there wouldn’t be any surprises.
Hawk was another story. But in retrospect, I could see the warning signs. He’d known slapping me in the morning made me volatile and sometimes shift, so why did he provoke me that way? Maybe that was a subtle hint of a larger fissure on that man’s soul. Jericho had never done anything so thoughtless. His flaw wasn’t that he would hurt me physically, but I knew the risk that he could break my heart.
“Who’s the guy who’s been watching you all night?” Rosie asked, sipping her drink.
I snapped out of my fog. “What?”
She craned her neck and peered over the divider. “The man who… well, he’s gone now. I thought maybe you were dating him, or he was the ex.”
“What did he look like?”
The ice in her glass clinked when she set it down. Rosie pulled out her makeup mirror and applied more lip liner. “I haven’t seen him in here before. He ordered one beer and watched you for the last hour, but not the way a man looks at a woman when they want to sleep with them, you know? Kind of… mad.”
Her eyes should have been on the mirror, but they were on me.
“He’s not the ex. What did he look like?”
“Plaid shirt, tight jeans…”
“I don’t mean what he was wearing.”
She clipped the mirror shut and slipped it in her purse. “He’s a little taller than you—not a big guy. Stern. He looked like anyone else wandering in. Either he was naturally bald or shaved his head—I couldn’t tell which. He also had a tattoo on his hand, but I don’t remember what it was.”
That gave me the creeps. “Was he a Shifter?”
“I can’t always tell unless I get up close. He sat in the corner by the door; we don’t get many customers who fill that area.”
Chills ran up my arms. I wondered if Delgado had sent someone else in to follow me. God, was I going to be paranoid for the rest of my life?
Heck no! my brain shouted. Get out of Dodge before it’s too late! Time to bail and get out of this city before you end up buried in it.
“Is Jake going to fire me? I haven’t been the best employee,” I asked, ignoring that irritating voice in my head.
Rosie chuckled with her mouth closed. “Not as long as you’re keeping Jericho around. Plus, I think he likes having a redhead on staff. You don’t see many redhead Shifters, so it’s a treat for the boys. Some of them stay a little longer and drink a little more, just so they can watch you work.”
“Then maybe all the girls should dye their hair red.”
She leaned in and her voice fell to a whisper. “One time, Trina did that. She colored her hair like a stoplight on her first day of employment. Now Jake and I knew she was a blonde, but she thought she was going to be slick and pull in all the tips,” Rosie said with a giggle. “Nooo. You can’t pull one over on these boys. I don’t know if they can smell red hair or maybe something didn’t match up, like her skin was a little flawless or she forgot to dye her brows, but they knew. In fact, they were so irritated by it that she didn’t get any tips that night. Jake threatened to fire her if she didn’t get herself together, so she came in the next day with black hair because the red wouldn’t come out. Oh, honey, she looked frightful. Like a little Morticia Addams.”
I laughed, feeling a bit sorry for Trina. I knew what that was like. I had once worked in a Shifter bar and dyed my hair brown, hoping to avoid the attention. Somehow, they knew. I’d catch them studying my hair, examining my eyebrows, as if looking for any small clue I wasn’t what I portrayed myself to be. I’d even covered my faded freckles with makeup, but I don’t know. Some things just can’t be explained, and almost all Shifter men had an inherent attraction toward redheads. The other Breeds could care less.
I had an inkling why. I’d only met two redheaded Shifter wolves in my life, and they were both alpha Packmasters. Strong alphas. If red-haired males were more likely to be an alpha, then mating with a redhead might increase a man’s chances at having an alpha child. Not all wolves will have an alpha child, so it’s a great honor, and most of them are the firstborn. Cole’s family was the rare exception. It explained why a few Packmasters had more than one mate. If the firstborn wasn’t an alpha, they could always try their chances with another woman. I had mixed theories about all this.
I didn’t see what the big deal was. I wasn’t any different than the next girl.
“Ready to go?” a voice beside us asked.
Rosie and I looked up at Wheeler, who stood with his arms folded. Rosie didn’t seem to care for all his tattoos, nor the scowl on his face, so she left the booth.
I left Wheeler while I changed clothes in the bathroom, slipping into a pair of flats and a short cotton dress the color of storm clouds. I decided if we got caught snooping around Hawk’s place, I didn’t want to look conspicuous by wearing dark clothes this time of year.
No one messed with Wheeler as we cut through the crowd. They stepped aside and let us pass. He possessed an ominous presence and was the only Cole brother that put me on edge. Despite the fact he said he owed me one, I felt terrible that he’d almost died. My phone call resulting in Austin getting there on time didn’t erase the fact my psychotic ex had put a bullet in his head.
Halfway across the room, my purse got hung up on something. I spun around, and a man with a shaved head was tugging on the strap.
The next thing I knew, Wheeler’s arm flew out and seized the guy by the throat. “Let it go or I’ll shatter your nose,” he said in slow, menacing words. His fingers gripped so tightly that the bones in his hand were visible.
The purse popped free, and I blinked, heading swiftly toward the door. Wheeler held my wrist and led me across the parking lot, walking two steps ahead. I finally twisted my arm free from his grasp and slowed my pace as we approached his car.
“Spiffy wheels,” I said, admiring the gunmetal-grey exterior.
“It’s a 1968 Chevy Camaro, so show a little respect.”
He ditched me where I stood and walked around to the driver’s side and got in. Wheeler leaned over and unlocked the door.
“I’m always surprised when something this old is still running,” I said, getting in and smelling the recently polished interior.
“That should be the Breed slogan,” he said dryly without a hint of humor.
Which made me smile. I buckled my lap belt and slammed the heavy door. The bucket seats were comfortable, and sitting in the old car brought back memories. I cranked the handle in circles to roll down the window, and Wheeler fired up the engine.
“We’ll go to the house you lived at first.”
The warm wind felt amazing. Gravel popped on the underbelly of the car as we pulled out of the parking lot and took off down the road at breakneck speed.
Thirty minutes later, we arrived at the house I’d once shared with Hawk. It was an ostentatious dwelling with tall bushes on each side that looked like skyscrapers. Normally they were kept neatly hedged, but now they looked scraggly and in need of a trim. The houses in the neighborhood were spaced apart for extra privacy, and only the orange streetlights illuminated the grounds.
Wheeler swung open the front door, and the cold air made my skin crawl. I cupped my elbows, standing closer to Wheeler than I had been before.
“What if someone’s in here?” I whispered.
“Then I’ll shift, and my wolf will feast on their bowels,” he said indifferently, disappearing down the hall to our left.
I stood frozen in the living room. My eyes floated
to the grand piano, the fireplace, the brass-framed paintings on the walls, and all the oversized vases. Before I chickened out, I suffocated the fear and began lifting cushions, turning vases upside down, pulling open drawers, and I even peered inside the piano. I’m not sure where a man like Hawk would have stashed drugs and money, but no stone would be left unturned.
Wheeler, on the other hand, was breaking things. I heard objects shattering and the sound of his shoes crunching on the broken pieces as he went through each room.
After searching the living room, I hurried down the hall and skidded to a halt when I passed a room that Hawk had always kept locked. The door was wide open, the cement floor covered with bloodstains. It’s a room Hawk had told me was his private office, and my stomach turned when I noticed the chains on the floor.
“What… what is this?” I gasped, shaking my head at the horrifying reality. “Oh my God.”
Wheeler hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me into the hall, closing the door. “Stay out of that room.” He went into the bedroom, and I followed close behind.
“I slept in here,” I said. “There’s no way he could have hid anything in this room without me finding it.”
Regardless, Wheeler flipped the mattress over and sliced it open with his knife. After ripping the pillows and breaking the lamps, he pulled everything out of the closet.
“What’s going to happen to his house?” I wondered aloud. “Did anyone report him missing?”
“I’m handling all that, and you don’t need to know the details.”
“You know, you’re about as warm as a block of ice.” I moved around him like a cyclone and headed for the backyard.
The moon lit up the outdoor concrete with a sharp glow. God, I hated that yard. My wolf was a dirt roller and would have loved playing in a yard with grass. I knelt, examining the flat stones near the door to see if any were loose. I could see Hawk doing something stupid, like burying them in the mud. Nothing looked suspicious, so I removed the cover from the hot tub and peered in.